Facades
by 123nnana
Summary: It might not make sense to the rest of the flock, but I wasn't a wuss who was going to spend all day wallowing in self-pity. I was strong. I was a warrior. And inside, I was slowly dying. But I just won't mention that part. Post-FANG. One-shot. Fax


The song is an Urdu song, called Meri Zaat Zara-E-Benishan, but I've added translations to the lyrics, so it should all be good.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Max Ride, or Meri Zaat**

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_I start to feel like I can't maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. - Elizabeth Wurtzel_

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It felt automatic, the smile stretching across my face as I watched Iggy chasing Gazzy around the house for breaking his blender. Like I was a robot, programmed to react to my surroundings. Everyone else laughed, I would laugh. Everyone else was mad, I would be mad. The only thing I refused to to give into was to cry.

Everyone, even Iggy, had cried after _he_ had left. But I refused. Because crying would do nothing. My crying wouldn't bring him back, wouldn't change what had been done. The whole flock had stared at me, wondering how I could just sit there like nothing was going on, wondering how I could prevent the flow of tears that kept threatening to pour down my face. After a while, they recovered from the shock of his leaving. Everyone recovered, except me.

"It's weird," I had heard Nudge saying to Iggy, just a few days after the incident, "I always knew Max was strong, was a leader, but I never thought that she could, you know, be so unaffected by Fang's not being here. I guess you just naturally become tough when you're her age."

"No," Iggy had replied, "She's only a couple of months older than me, and I had taken Fang's leaving pretty hard just like everybody else. I guess she just doesn't miss him as much as everyone expected her to."

For that I gave myself a pat on the back. If this whole flock leader thing didn't work out, I could go into a career in acting. Because everyone thought I didn't have the ability to feel sad, to miss someone, when inside, it felt like my heart was going to explode from pain.

_Who can know the condition of your heart besides God?_

"I understand," Angel would say, "but it's going to be okay. I know how you feel."

_Oh no you don't_. You will never understand what it feels like to lose the only person in the world you can trust. The only person who you could talk to, who would stick beside you no matter what decision you made, what you said. Only I have felt that pain. Trust me, you don't understand.

After he left I found out just how much I needed him. I never realized, but his face, his presence, the knowledge that he was somewhere here in this house would calm me, reassure me that whatever happened, in the end everything would be okay. Without him, it felt as though everything were blank, as though there was a gray screen covering my vision, disconnecting me from the rest of the world. I would never admit it but I missed him.

I missed him so much that it felt like I couldn't stand. I had never felt this kind of pain, this kind longing, this kind of agony. I'd been shot, broken ribs, trapped in a pod filled with numbing acid, and yet this pain was totally different. There was an ache in my chest that I just couldn't explain.

_How do I explain this pain?_

Though my body was whole, it was like, like a part of my soul had left with him. No matter how corny that sounded, it was the only way I could phrase the emptiness I felt without him. Like no matter how happy the rest of the flock was, I could never reach the same level of carelessness as they had. My happy days were over.

And when I lay to go to bed at night, I would pick up the note he left me and press it to my heart, trying to remember how I use to feel when he was there standing next to me, saying cocky things and trying to get on my nerves. But it felt like my mind had been wiped clean of those moments. I still had the memories, but they were played inside my head like an old movie, blurry and gray, free of emotion. No matter how hard I tried, I could never feel that same way again.

And when I played, talked, flew with the flock, I was only half there. The other half of me was thinking about him. No matter how happy the rest of the flock would be, I would always feel forlorn, like there was something missing.

_This loneliness, this worry, has become the meaning of my life_

He said he would never split up the flock again. He lied.

I would never forget him, no matter how hard I tried. I could never forget his black, silky hair, dark eyes, half-smile. I would remember them always, even though I should I bury them inside the confines of my mind, so I can enjoy my life with what was left of my flock. But I can't, no matter how much I want to.

_If only those memories would leave me  
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His note, the only thing I had left of him, was the also the only thing that kept me together, kept me from crying and sobbing and acting like a total sissy in front of my flock. His note was the only thing that kept the despair locked inside of me from escaping.

Because he said we would meet again. He promised, he _swore_, that we would see each other again, in 20 years. No matter how much we will have changed, looked different, I'm going to recognize him. I'm going to recognize his black eyes, which had the power to search right through me, to read my mind. I was going to remember him.

That note, the one thing he had been thoughtful enough to leave, was the only thing that helped me get through the day. Was the only ray of hope left.

_But there's one moment of hope_

Until then, I would survive. For him, I would survive, despite the tornado of agony hidden behind my façade.

_My true feelings will continue to exist unknown_


End file.
